I contemplate...
the decaying...
Force of the forged...
Nature...
that i have been forced...
To admire...
None of this..
Is more special...
Then a bitter draft...
At sunrise...
I am just flesh attached to bones...
That serve no other purpose...
Other than...
Rotting...
The beauty of everything that has...
Has ever yearned...
To be beautyful...
Is just make up...
On existentialist...
Dross...
I am the bitter taste of gall...
That circulates in the veins...
Of those...
Who still...
Consider...
The eternal penitence...
A godly...
All your idols are dead...
They died in vain...
What for?....
...Life